I’m trying to formulate my opinion of The Descent 2, but that opinion is eluding me so I have moved on until I can get it together….maybe later tonight.  I have also found myself in a morass of work, essential chores and life events that has derailed my posting.

I am sure you are all content with the knowledge that I have 4 unfinished post drafts floundering away behind the doors of the IF Content Production Department.

In order to slake your thirst for Pangs Related Nonsense, I would like to explore one of my first forays into the mysterious.  You can all thank Mother Pangs for this clash with the unknown.

Believe it or not, there was a time when parents let their children roam unchecked throughout the land.  It was glorious.  We were out there, my friends and I.  Exploring, rampaging, thinking deep thoughts and sometimes poking something with a stick.

My mother was pretty practical and I am the final product of her womb.  Her patience for nonsensical worry was long eaten up by my elder siblings.  So besides the usual (don’t get run over by a truck, don’t get in a car with a child murderer, etc), the only other warning young Pangs received was…..”stay out of the woods at night….the hippies are out there”.


I was a smart child, but I had no idea what the hell these “hippies” might be.  They sounded dangerous and otherworldly.  Naturally, I was determined to track one and observe it in the wild.  The “woods” my mother was speaking of is an 1800 acre forest preserve that is described as “a rolling upland forest interspersed with wooded ravines and wetlands.”  From a child’s perspective, the woods was a nearly endless and magical expanse of pure, untamed wilderness.

My pals and I spent much time and effort in the hunt.  There was a lot of ground to cover. We had seen signs in the woods during the light of day.  Ripped clothing, a dirty mattress…various tin cans.  Surely evidence that the hippies had struck a group of unsuspecting campers or some such.

We would stay at my buddy’s house (the closest of our residences to the woods and the easiest to sneak out of) and make secret, late-night forays out into the woods.

It was a mystery, for sure.  We never actually had a confirmed sighting.  At least none that we knew of. Occasionally we ran into teens hanging out, doing teen things.  They didn’t take our concern about the hippies very seriously.

My mother failed to explain to me that she meant people like my sister; dressed in groovy clothing, ass-length hair flying in the breeze and a faint hint of pot smoke in the air.

I managed to scrawl a child-like map of the area for your amusement.  For purposes of scale, the distance from my friend’s house to the forest preserve trail head is about 0.2 miles.  For the purposes of me not having to actually draw a detailed map, some houses were left off (also because most of those people and/or locations do not figure prominently in this story).


About I.M. Pangs

digital verbal smog creator improbablefrontiers.com
This entry was posted in Personal Commentary, Universal Absurdity and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Hippiesquatch

  1. autumnforest says:

    God, Pangs! You always make me laugh every time I hear something you’ve written, even when it’s just in comments. Yeah, we lived next to the university and there were woods between us and the college, so I’d go walking the paths and run into all the hippies in the early 70s smoking pot and making love in the open. I always thought of it like some magical land in Ireland where imps and nymphs were jaunting around, part of the wildlife, if you will.

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